~
I was 1
I licked
A tree
I am in 2
I lick
A tree
"I am too"
Lick of ashes
A tree will
~
Monday, May 31, 2010
12 threads of ink
away, Dawn -
void within ribs
Alive the dew
drips glowing
foolishly poetic
to catch on the
laugh like transcend
universe of shivers
tangent sun
set ... to drift
.
Swirly Gogyokha caresses
Solid emptiness of ...
Knots Zooming to a slow shutter
Warmth
Past light, a tree
Treasuring the exception that yearns
100 readers ... 7 intrigued ... 3 feel ...
1 understands ... and 1 yearns to understand
1 understands ... and 1 yearns to understand
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Brava
{ Reviving my heart through laughter, I have gone long way, far away from my dramas ... yet those dramas draw me, the sun who laughs. I write them for they might shed light for someone out there. Appreciation universe of mine ... Keep on laughing with me }
/
Observing grayish photo of
a 4 years old child
post divorce, while at boarding school ...
The smell of death in gaze suffocates
the woman, she yearns to become
a 4 years old child
post divorce, while at boarding school ...
The smell of death in gaze suffocates
the woman, she yearns to become
.
Living in boarding school
Visiting rarely her father home
She envies her photo
Behind glass
It twinkles much more by his gazes
Visiting rarely her father home
She envies her photo
Behind glass
It twinkles much more by his gazes
+
One week, prior open heart surgery
Daughter in tears
He envies a new pair of shoes
Scar on memory his thirst for life
Gazing at both tenderly
Daughter in tears
He envies a new pair of shoes
Scar on memory his thirst for life
Gazing at both tenderly
Portrait
Gazing at a child
Picking vibrant memories
Smiling as if sun within
I smell my childhood
The one I dream to have
Dreaming to have that
My laughter vibrates me
Sleepless child within
Running through poppy fields
Within throughout sun at 41
Born old in drama
Young non aging in laughter
I sketch me stretching
Coloring "foolishly poetic"
To newest chapter of Gogyohka
Saturday, May 29, 2010
&
Rising to murmur her lips
As if fingertips
Tracing goosebumps
Palms as river
Toward gooseberry
Tilted head
Onward to
Crystal blue, teal and white
Engulfed creatively
Universe within the whirl
Aware of his origin
Friday, May 28, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
~ ...
Wave by wave
Bent on fork
to unleash the fork
Feverish dance
Violin in pain, looming
Violin in pain, looming
Scent as if somber light
Violin in pain, not still
Violin in pain, not still
Kisses on fertile
Earth my power
Pen and pond
Pondering
...
Wazuka, keyboard
Fields of admiring
In vibrant leave, that clarity
Bedouin waves
Standing with
Basket of memories
Planting inner scape
To pick the flow
Quiet heart at peak
Continual booming
Blooming the walk
Among awareness
Authenticity
In full refresh
Artistic tutelage
Resource of drop
Gracing to become
In oneness cup
"Joie de vivre"
Steaming into Wazuka
(wabi to chadō)
Monday, May 24, 2010
;) Final Note to myself
Imagination, a wealth of forces, along reflections to activate the kind of life I desire: It brings me healing as by product along expansion through intensity by deciphering. Though, it is not my destination. This blog started in 2008 for "Celebrating a Journey" that developed into owning it through "Celebrating my Journey". It arrives to "Abundantly, Heart :) My Laughter" where I depart to a richer world, private in its reality, imagination and reflections. I am the writer of my scenario which is heart laughter though I came to acknowledge that heart laughter obliges a bubble of privacy.
Ending with a sign of reverence to another Poet Aidu Taro (San) who wrote:
"Early one summer morning
No one has yet arrived
At the field by the river
Softly I release
My dog from his collar."
(Appreciation to Gogyohka Junction where I meet the beautiful poet Aidu. Though it was a fleeting encounter of few lines exchanged, his emphasis on the great wisdom linked to simple daily actions, is going to be my life long treasure.)
(Appreciation t
...
A poem I wrote, it seems ages ago, to a Don Quixote windmill, posted here as space for sweet imagination, scenery of goodbye.
"Gather me in your breath
Swallow my surfing on your curves
I am but a short run to reach
Run in me
Along my insanity
Our teardrop twinkling
On the edge of time
Let the whiteness invade me
Through my fragrant grooves
Nestle in my dew
Expose my every line
My home
Irrelevant your map
I am that"
Photo dedicated to http://conjuringthoughts.blogspot.com/
Prayer of "Conjuring Sunlight"
Echoes of Oneness
...
In life, absence
In death, presence
In between, a flood of tears
Carving my old reflection
Knowing why, out of breath
Key in hand
5. Vase of Flowers, Pablo Picasso
Of which Amine, my father, was jealous
His divorcee issue
He never knew
Hadhouda was my baby
And he was the 10% of motherhood
That I have ever had
90 % went to his work
Those flowers are for that delicious
10% motherhood
you gave me Amine
Ocean kiss
End of story
3. Vase of Flowers, Odilon Redon
Her birthday on
the 12th of April
On that day
I was born too
Yet she was my gift
My child in mother status
Welcome
once more
to my upside down
world of mine
the 12th of April
On that day
I was born too
Yet she was my gift
My child in mother status
Welcome
once more
to my upside down
world of mine
~
P.S: I wrote a mini story of 5 pictures; I feel the urge to post it here, not that I am reflecting but rather it is part of my identity.
Waking up to a sober reflection
Last Spring, I took a course about Indian culture. The teacher was in love with India yet with clear vision. One day, in the break, I rushed to her chatting about my new amazing topic which diverged into politics: Ghandi phenomena. With a composure of a reflective yet loving person, she told me: "While being that great phenomena, only few knew what a dictator and failing father to his family, he was". Identities, perceptions and perspectives: Colors of life.
Good morning world.
Good morning world.
When someone turns a person without her consent into tweeting game topic to lure popularity, what does that say about him / her! Gogyohka spirit is for healing as posted on wiki. Trashing and tossing someone as football in between feets, what does it say! Not about the perceived football but rather about who joined the game in addition to those who directed it: What does it say! Remind me, how many of you, twitters or whomever, against one!
No one can touch a hair of mine without my permission. I started this blog because I careless about society opinion. I wanted to communicate maybe someone listens.
Games / Zoo / Competitions / Races mentality is cheap talk.
Pinkish Bedouin by choice until.
No one can touch a hair of mine without my permission. I started this blog because I careless about society opinion. I wanted to communicate maybe someone listens.
Games / Zoo / Competitions / Races mentality is cheap talk.
Pinkish Bedouin by choice until.
Dry Jolt by Whisky on the Rocks
P. S: I have never been interested in games of crows, daisies or tweets. I write because I want to communicate with someone decent, sensitive and straight forward out there even if it means 1000 years later.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
~
White encounters
Ripple in vibrancy
Life, elating depth of dew
Blue to green knots
Embrace of flow tenderly
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Semi quite street witnessing
Smile of a swan
Gaze into pink
As distances diminish
Wobble of a duck
Tripping over clock's march
Flirting with the air
toward Lila's scent
As distances diminish
Awaken by tangent shadow
Clock's pretext
Shining in love
Man in front observations
As distances grow
Smile of a sky
Waving back his sweetness
Friday, May 21, 2010
Giggling a thought that founds
There is a Lebanese song called "Habibi Enta" meaning beloved Enta while Enta is you.
Another Reflection
Can you notice how the guard becomes the prisoner, like the player becoming the game ... Exceptions who connect to their authenticity, transcend by co-alignment, mirroring echoes of oneness.
Echoes of oneness, late seemingly
Floating to meet, look at
I observe me
Poling toward flutters of moon
On sparrow's ride to reed and dust
In waves transparently
~
Floating to meet crystal magic
I observe me
Poling toward flutters of moon
On sparrow's ride to reed and dust
In waves transparently
~
Floating to meet the chosen one
I observe me
Poling toward flutters of moon
On sparrow's ride to reed and dust
In waves transparently
~
Tanka, that "Roof of the World"
Emergency, car invasion, scull fracture
Clueless me, dripping suffocation on her
While fingertips bleeding under my bracelet
Caress of eternal love that sculpts in aches beauty
Twilight zones, my all dimensions
Ages later, no later, same hospital, edematous knot
Floating room, clueless doctors
Mine into hers, we comprehend
Fingertips on her broken side of head
Caress of eternal love that mirrors in aches beauty
Living apart while never being that
Born same day, 30 steps away
Living together for 10 in twilight zone
Careless doctors, whiteness of black running
All apart from our dimension, gossiping nurses
In between 10, gatekeeper of tender souls
Bathing in tears of love and hymns to light, those gazes
Heart laughter while both bodies withering away
Mirror mirror whom do you see ...
Hadhouda and me: twilight, highlight, sunlight love
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Short of two months, the hermit went back to his cave after an unimaginable trip in social media. Back to the natural, which he can communicate with. Leaving behind a non sense blog of laughter, he kept walking away, fresh and relieved that he did not fit into their world. Upon departure, he embraced a box of books and white papers to caress thoughts and imagination while reading or writing. Witnessing the Rising Sun within, he kept laughing until the wind covered all that might have slipped away. Reaching 110, he chose to die, smiling to a butterfly while an ocean kiss whispered its secret.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Dear Mr. Gogyohka # 19 (Pink Peony)
For sure, I have a slender stem, said the pink peony. I lived all my life in isolation due to multiple dramas. I am a happy soul by nature. I do not know how to communicate with people that are not straightforward nor know what healthy approach means. I do not like to offend anybody and at the same time, I do respect the glory of my humanness. That is simply all my story. If you have an advice for me, dear Mr, do write it.
"Having an outer space soul" is a description of me and not an illusion.
Wishing you my dear a beautiful life,
Foolishly transparent,
me
"Having an outer space soul" is a description of me and not an illusion.
Wishing you my dear a beautiful life,
Foolishly transparent,
me
Serious note, non personal
Contemplate the above image ... What can you sense ... Keywords: depth as if well / velvety skin / a green line that fell due to a breeze ... So sensing this photo, it gave birth to the following poem:
~
His breath falling
A light caress
In line for
My velvety skin
Well of fullness
~
Senses to Hum
~
Leading in echoes of Oneness
Heart Rhythm
Piling illusions to cross
Fearless
Foolish
Poetical
Sun rays skinny dips
A flow of fullness
Irrelevant to minds
~
Leading in echoes of Oneness
Heart Rhythm
Piling illusions to cross
Fearless
Foolish
Poetical
Sun rays skinny dips
A flow of fullness
Irrelevant to minds
~
Monday, May 17, 2010
Anyway
My laughter continues elsewhere away from internet.
Ciao ciao blog / facebook / whatever / ... viewers.
Find yourself another thread.
~
HEART
Ciao ciao blog / facebook / whatever / ... viewers.
Find yourself another thread.
~
HEART
+10+
Permalink Reply by Steve Wilkinson 8 hours ago
Mist shrouded islands
as dawn breaks
fishing boats sail
on smooth glass
mouths to feed.
Islands in the mist
fishing boats sail from your shores
many mouths to feed.
+8+
Permalink Reply by Mark Holloway 7 minutes ago
Kris, the word you were looking for is "onji" - phonetic sound symbols which, as you say, are not the same as English syllables. If there is, at the bottom of it all, a confusion between onji and syllables, then there would seem to be no reason whatsoever to follow the 5-7-5 rule for haiku written in English.
For me, syllable-counting is the very least significant aspect of haiku. But in all other respects, Storm, I would very much agree with you. The real discipline is to be found in all those other important elements, (the ones that most people are not aware of).
In the very worst cases of Twitter "haiku", people may put their shopping list into 5-7-5 and call it haiku. Most are well-meaning, but you immediately know that they have not bothered to dig into the subject in any meaningful way.
It is precisely that self-indulgence that I find so jarring. Even though, in theory, I can loosen up a bit in gogyohka, I still find it almost impossible to use the "perpendicular" personal pronoun. It is that self-indulgence, incidentally, that puts me off poetry in a wider sense, too. That, and pointlessly flowery language.
Hence my tongue in cheek (slightly) gogyohka
i
like
very
little
poetry
Sorry, everyone, I've wandered away from the point of this discussion thread.
I'll stop now!
+7+
i agree Kris ~ when i first started experimenting with haiku ~ i nipped at the heels of my pruned words and they crawled inside the 5-7-5 pattern ~ i found the 5-7-5 rhythm especially settling ~ actually a form of meditation ~
i love to read the Japanese masters of the form ~ my favorites being Issa and Chiyo-ni ~ and the more i read of the masters ~ the more i sensed that the English 5-7-5 form just didn't fit the same rhythm.
The Japanese onji is just not equivalent to our English syllables ~ so what we end up with is a whole lot of information / perhaps almost two times what is found in a Japanese haiku ~ crammed into a form. Please understand this was my personal feel over time from reading and comparing.
I saw even more of this as i began to follow Japanese haiku writers online in English e.g. Lawrence Barrow ~ i love his haiku ~ but they are pure experience. And what strikes me most ~ the importance of painting an image that comes to life & experience ~ not syllable count.
In contrast, on twitter i found my compatriots cutting up sentences into 3 lines of 5-7-5 ~ awful sentences ~ sometimes 'ghetto' talk ~ and calling this haiku ~ its an embarrassment to the form ~
All of this to say ~ that i have adopted a freer 'form' of haiku that suits me and my sense of rhythm (usually around 10 -11 syllables ) ~ as well as a feel for the deeper truths of 'form' ~ i want to read more Japanese haiku writers who write in English ~ i hope to understand more about the way the pieces or lines interact ~ e.g. the opposing elements within the haiku communicating ~ the surprise or twist ~ the more subtle elements of Japanese poetry ~ i hope this explains my respect for Japanese poets ~ and why i have abandoned the strict 5-7-5 form ~
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Hadhouda
Her natural beauty
Was chaotic in essence
Though, based on one routine
Her peeled fresh fruit plate
Every night
Served to my grandmother
While sleeping
An unconditional love
Within reach
In case of awakening